In My Life
by IAmForReal
Summary: Troy had a lot of hardships in life, hardships that go on and on. And he thinks, is it always going to crumble?
1. Run

_I don't own Power Rangers [Megaforce]._

~X~

It starts in middle school. Troy realizes that what the bigger, cooler kids are doing to him is bullying. Yes, the topic he had learned in elementary, the one where everyone was and was told to never do it. In middle school, the kids end up hurting him for the better. He didn't expect it. He knows bullying is bad, and he never expected bad things to start happening so soon. But the kids all pick on him. They call him mean names and tell him he should give up on everything.

"Why are your lips so fat?"

"Don't you talk? Too ashamed of your voice, huh?"

"Where's your dad, Troy? Oh, right. He left you! He left you worthless and on the ground."

And the comments about his dad usually hurt, because he begins to give in as if they were true. And he partially believes it. That what the bullies do to him.

He's also kind of surprised because he knew himself to always be a good kid. He wasn't one to be teased of. He was a really good person. He was nice and respectful, and he always listened to the teachers and his parents. Then he realized that that was maybe the reason why the bullies always made fun of him.

But no one usually talks to him. So he doesn't really talk since there's no one to talk to. All of a sudden, the kids are making snarky comments about him. And they don't feel good at all. It sends this burning feeling in his stomach, a deep stabbing right into him.

So after school, he runs home every day as early as he can, crying. Starting from 7th grade, he's avoided and ducked from crumpled papers and spitballs and rough shoves from everyone. He always slipped on his hood and stared down until he crossed the road of his school where no one could see him. He runs. He runs as fast as he can. He prays that no one would follow him. He's thirteen years old, and he knew the kids at school would defeat him for crying on his way.

He tells his mom he always rides the bus, when in reality he doesn't because he'd most likely get pushed over. Maybe the bullies would make a "playful" attempt to shove him out the window.

But his mom drops him off every morning and he makes sure she's gone so he can proceed to walk in. He doesn't need her worrying too much. She's worried so much already Troy begins to feel really bad.

He lives in a small house on the edge of town, far from their school. It's tucked in within a neighborhood in the trees and it's away from all the other kids. It's the fourth house he'd lived in so far. His mom moves them a lot to find a new school for Troy that isn't so painful, and to get more money just in case of another move. They always move to small, affordable cities, and those cities have no more than one school for him. It's big, wooden, and cozy, but it doesn't comfort Troy at all.

He sits on the small four-step staircase of his house, and drops his head in his hands. His hands become wet and he lets out muffled sobs as quick as he can. He just sits on the porch and cries. He just feels really upset that he couldn't be better for everyone else. It kills him inside.

And then he cries even more because he does this so often that his mom is going to have to bustle up even more money because she might move them again. He hates having his mom spend money just for him, and no matter how many times she reassures him, it doesn't help.

He decides to be a man and suck it up. Everyone was going to get hurt one time in life. This was his time. He can't keep crying for the rest of his life.

But he knows his mom always comes home before he does. The screen door slaps open and he hears the tap of his mom's flats creaking on the boards. He looks down in shame as his mom comes over and hugs him tightly. She uses her soft, delicate voice to comfort him while he just cries into her blouse.

He wants to hope that it'll get better. But for now, he just can't seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel.


	2. Cool as Ice

When Troy enters 8th grade, no one ever stopped. The pain goes on and on, and he still finds himself crying and in his mom's arms, like a child. He thinks he should've matured enough by now. He promised himself he would. But maybe that had been a promise he couldn't keep. The pain keeps shooting through him.

All his bullies have cool clothes on, he notices. There are all these chains and hats and slick jeans. Oh, and the shoes are always shiny. Everyone adores them. He scoffs all the time about it and recalls how that was supposed to be the girls' jobs.

But he figures that being cool gets people to like you. And Troy had enough of the pain for now, ever since he was a little kid. He's sick of it. He's sick of being hurt. He'll do anything he can to finish it off.

So the next day, he goes to the mall. It's not that far a walk from his house. It is a small town after all. He finds himself in awe at his town of Oakwood's mall. He'd never really been to one, and he feels better and independent knowing that he was let off by himself. And sure enough, he finds the same cool kids at school. They're all guys by the way, and Troy still comments on how this should be a female thing. But he goes along with it, nevertheless.

They all enter a NIKE store, and he immediately notes that as a "cool" store. He watches them from behind a tall tree just big enough to shade him off. He's still able to peer through the window without anyone seeing him. And it's like time doesn't even pass, because soon enough, all of them are walking out with new pairs of shoes, bags full of them (and he still doesn't get why on TV they show women as the shoe-lovers).

Once they are all gone and out of his sight, he slips himself into the store, the hood of his red sweater hooked onto his head. He gets slightly intimidated by the amount of older, teenage boys scoping around the store. He feels short, and weak.

But soon enough, his eyes land on a nice pair of shoes. They're red hot Nikes with the logo printed orange, and they're as shiny and slick as the boys at school's shoes. He rolls out the crumpled up cash and coins stuffed into his pocket. It's a total of $15.42. He groans internally. This was the one time he felt that he could be stopped from all the mental torture. Maybe people would like him. And he thinks about how cool those shoes would look on him. He looks around to be certain that no one was looking at him.

So he takes them off of the display and shoves them into his abnormally large pullover's pocket.

It's only a slight bulge, surprisingly. When he turns around, one of the store workers asks him if he needed any help. He says he's just looking. When the worker walks away, he's sure enough that he'd make a swift exit. So he stalls out the door, his hood still on.

And when he's at the entrance, the alarms go off right away.

He hears the manager calling, "Get that boy!" right away. So he darts off out of the store, hoping to make a sweet escape. He can't, of course. One of the security guards that always stand around the mall had blockaded him quickly. He was caught.

Seven minutes later (he can remember the exact amount of minutes), his mom rushes into the mall, frantic for her son. When she approaches him, his head is down. He feels himself crying again, but less this time. The shame fills in for it.

It's safe to say that the first time he went to a mall alone, he shoplifted.

He's sent to the security office of some sort with his mom, and he gives up the red pair of Nikes. His mom has her head rubbed against her fingers. He feels at his worst, and he knows because his mom is probably really disappointed. It's killing him inside so much. It only added on.

On the car ride home, his mom doesn't stay silent like he expects, weeping silent tears of sorrow. Instead, she gives this long, wistful lecture that Troy wants to zone out of, because he's done with this subject and hates it. But he respects his mom, so he listens to his mother's lecture.

She says "Troy, you're better than this."

That stabs him most of all. He knows that it's a lie. He doesn't deserve this. He deserves something much worse.

The next day at school, the kids have already heard about his story, and it spreads like wildfire. The kids have a bigger excuse to pick on him. He hadn't changed anything. He just made it worse.


	3. Almost There

Second semester of his school comes around, and Troy's thankful because he only has about six more months to go until he can get out of here. He can spend three peaceful months with his mom, no worry, no haste, and no hate. They'll just have fun. He's missed that a lot.

He knows as an 8th grade boy like him should be tough. They should be able to stand up for themselves. Troy didn't know how that would count for him. But he would make it count. He would try.

So he walks into school weeks after winter break, dressed in dark clothing that tried to scream "Don't mess with me!" but really just paled away into a misty gray. He had his hood on for his whole entrance, and could hear questions and snickers outside his wounded ears. And he's aware that he must've looked like a murderous stalker in the being, and softly removed his hood. It didn't make him any tough, he felt.

At lunch, he watches these kids in the middle of the courtyard. He sits in the very back corner, hidden behind small trees and trashcans away from everyone else, and watches. There are two kids, a boy and a girl, sparring, at their school.

Troy is mesmerized by the high kicks and the hard punches. He's not very violent, but he sees that they're defending themselves with massive strength. He fights the urge to move closer, but ponders over a decision while at it. Then at last, it's the boy who falls and everyone begins cheering. In the back, he claps lightly but awe is already summoning up inside of him and oozing out.

Another kid steps up on the mat to fight, the girl stepping out for the round, and this time Troy chooses to move closer. He sinks into the crowd, almost to the point where he's crawling for cover. He looks as the boy calls out for another opponent.

One bully shoves him upfront.

All of Troy's awe is replaced with fear as the older, tougher guy steps up to him, smirks, and then snickers. Troy does nothing but blink. He tells himself to man up, act tough, and do his best to duel this guy. But his feet are glued to the pavement, his mind is shrunken, and he can only stand.

He comes back when the boy, who he hears has the name of Andrew, grabs him roughly by the edge of his sweater and throws him against the mat. He falls with a hard thud, but tries to feel nothing as he scurries to stand.

On his feet, Andrew is marching towards him. He backs up, processing some kind of technique he'd attempt. At one punch, all he does is duck and run over to the other side of the mat as everyone howls. But he feels a push to the head, and he falls again. The pounding footsteps echo behind him, and before he can even get up, he's stuck back down.

Blows hit into his back, and he's bruised and flipped over so they can punch him again, in the stomach. And Troy knows that this isn't proper martial arts and that they're doing it wrong. But he doesn't say a word. He lets them hit.

He comes home with tears in his eyes, all black and blue, and another problem stirring up for his mom.


	4. Forbidden Fear

_I said this on my other story. I am EXTREMELY sorry for such a long hiatus._

_The reason is on Chapter 7 of my Tremma story. But I am truly sorry. I shouldn't have left everything unfinished. But my muse is coming back, so expect some chapters sooner. I am so sorry! I didn't mean to leave everything incomplete. But I'm back, and I will make sure that I keep this posted. Thank you :)._

_I don't own anything but my ideas, plot, fictional characters, etc. Everything else belong to Power Rangers._

_~X~_

One day, Troy comes home terrified.

He can hear shouting from the far corner of the sidewalk, loud piercing screams rebounding off the silence and dissolving into the wind. He knows that it's bad. And he's scared. But his head is held high, and he marches on the sidewalk. He's tougher now. He can handle anything. Or can he?

When he's five sidewalk squares away from his porch and yards away from the door, everything inside him begins to freeze when the voices just get louder and louder. There's two. One is his mom. He knows that for sure. The other voice is male, deep and overpowering and intimidating. It's fuzzy though.

But Troy can feel what's coming. It's labeled "Worst Case Scenario" and it sucks.

This scenario lets him curl up again, his insides twitching and his body swiveling to either side, as if he was _already_ punched and beat up. He finds his steps slower, heavier, shakier, numbed. He can't find why. He shouldn't be scared. Sympathetic, empathetic, but not scared…until he gets onto the porch.

"You are a slut, and you have no place in this world! No one can tell you otherwise because it's the truth!"

That was the male voice.

And now Troy was cold and hard as steel, but easy enough to break. He wanted to cry and scream to the world, but if Troy made one sound, _he'd_ find him. He'd come out and stomp on Troy with no regrets.

He tries his best to block out everything else _he_ says. It scares him too much. He wonders if the neighbors can hear this. He wonders if anyone would, or could, come and help.

Then he hears his name. It's shouted in disgust and agony, a reluctance filled with distaste. He knows that very well. He doesn't want to though.

"You will not say that about my son!" That was his mom.

"That's _our_ son!"

He gulps a silent lump. He realizes that he is _his_ son too. And his world comes falling down around him. Everything. Then nothing….

~X~

_Troy fell against the wooden coffee table, splintering wood shattering and biting his skin. One dominant man cowered over him. He was ruled._

_"You are a worthless human being, do you know that?" a booming alto voice ripped over him. "The world would be cleaner without people like you."_

~X~

"You're a worthless human being, you know that?"

He flinches at the exact same shattering voice rising upon him. It diffuses out through the door, loud enough to shatter glass, angry enough to mess his brain. It files through the screen door to send an electric shock of fear burning his every vain. He realizes how much it all hurts when it's all put on him again. Inside of him is frozen. It's just still, all quiet and there's nothing else. His mind had stuck in a terrified ponder. He feels light headed, dizzy. Reality must've really punched him hard.

It's his dad. He's scared of his dad.


	5. Emphasis on Move

_When I wrote these next chapters, I was feeling happy for the time. I'll get back to the angst but here's some happy stories for you :)._

_~X~_

There's one day when he's actually happy.

He comes home one day through the side door, the bustled hammered one that leads him to the kitchen. He sees his mom smiling too. And then he sees papers sprawled on the dining table, labeled "Lease Agreement".

He jumps to assumptions swiftly, sitting down and smiling innocently, and giving signals to his mom by occasionally glancing at the papers. But nevertheless, he gives his mom time to sort everything out as she continues rummaging through packets of papers, a pen hung in her mouth as each paper turns and turns. And his mom soon blurts it out, ever so bluntly.

"Troy, we're moving."

He realizes just what that means. For any other kid, it would've been simpler. Just something like "Oh we won't be living here anymore, son." But Troy honestly wasn't any other kid. He knows that there's this layer and wall, thick and strong, that's being taken away, because of all this emphasis he puts on the statement that he will not be living in this community anymore. He can't take anymore cruelty the people in his world gave him. He doesn't want to fight something who's existence isn't necessary.

But leaving was his escape.

He lets his mom go on.

"There's a good affordable house that I scrambled a bid on. I gave the little sympathy story for an add-in for an advantage. You know, 'Oh, I'm a single struggling mother with an estranged husband raising my son who gets bullied for being him.' That thing. It's great because it's true. I've got a decent job recommendation and the schools over there shouldn't be so bad. I think I trust those reviews online. Well I don't know, you can't exactly trust everyone now, can we Troy?"

"No mom." he replies.

"So in other words, we're moving away."

"What's the city called?"

"Anywhere but here AKA Panorama City."

"Panorama?"

"Yep. It's a smaller city, but it's clean, calm, and rich. I have a feeling we'll do well there."

Troy nods. "Me too." he replies.

And in that moment, in a weight lifted and with his mother's gemmed Blue Topaz pen (for her birthstone), he feels like he has wings.

He reaches over and gives his mom a comforting and warm hug.


	6. Counting Love

Their moving date was about two months away from when they found out. So he has a while to wait until they both take a drive. That gives him enough time to get into school, which would be starting high school for him.

After deep research online, they finally found one of five high schools, which all had a rating of 7/10 or higher, in Panorama City. Westville High, it was called. It was right on the brink of a community called Westfield, but a Panorama school and would be ten minutes driving distance from his new home.

There was nothing else he needed to know, so he had about two months of blunt waiting time until they left.

But it was summer, and the brightest and warmest time of year, and also his birthday.

His mom always made sure that _something_ was done on his birthday every year. Whether it was taking him out or throwing a small party for just them two, his mom never forgot to do something special.

He wished one day she would forget. He never did anything on her birthday. If she forgot, they'd be even.

This birthday started with him waking up to chocolate chip pancakes and chocolate chip waffles all stacked up on each other, piled high with whipped cream and chocolate covered strawberries. (His mom was a chocoholic, and it hadn't been a shame that she passed that genetic down to him). A big tall breakfast like in the cartoons and movies, only better in reality. And then he thought maybe he was earning stuff like this. And then he knew that this only came one day a year, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Then his mom surprised him with a road trip down to downtown Sacramento, and raised his spirits. He had been to Sacramento before. It was a two hour drive from Oakwood, and his mom would drive there with him when he was younger. It was modern, it was fresh, and it was brilliant.

So they pack Utz, Lays, and Funyuns, along with Pop Rocks and chocolate in the space between their seats and stash extra in the back like they always do, and they head off. It's a breezy eighty-eight degrees drive down to Sacramento, but he lets the window down fully so the wind can brush through his hair and flap his face.

And it's always better with two windows open. His mom always does it too. And then they open the back windows as far as they can and then the sunroof and it's gotten to the point where they have to yell to talk to each other.

And they talk to each other a lot.

When they pass the sign that welcomes them into the city, they're still yelling, and finally someone decides to notice. He sees one man, a buff one with shades and a long-sleeve suit on him while he sits under the hood of a red Lamborghini. That man yells at him, loud and clear and strong enough to intimidate them both. So he focused on all the details to get his mind to tune it out. The man was yelling at the Burrows to stop yelling.

Then he watches with a grin as his mom brings one arm off the steering wheel, and takes out a chocolate. She slows down to about 35 mph, just to launch. She throws a Reese's Cup across Troy, out the window, and successfully through the window of that man's car.

She yells "Chocolate is sweet!"

His mom is like no other. He beams while they drive into the boroughs of downtown.

He likes cities. He likes when there are people around. There are always stories to see. He likes hearing all the noise. He has something to listen for. Skyscrapers are at his best interest. They reach so tall, and Troy knows one day he'll be able to reach that tall. He likes being in a crowd. There's always a chance that there's someone like him.

So he's driving through the streets of Sacramento. The back two windows have been rolled up, but now they have the CD player turned up loud, listening to the album _Symphony Solider_ by The Cab. They like to have everyone know what music they listen to. And then they're finally off the highway roads and into Downtown.

Sure enough, there were a lot of people walking around, talking, smiling. There are people taking pictures and people working hard. He can't help but wave at them, and he's extremely happy when they wave back.

He feels good putting a smile on people's faces. It makes him feel warm and sweet inside.

He sees an awful lot of happiness and love in Sacramento today. It seems today is one of those days where just everybody's heart is so big. He loves it so much.

And he wonders…can he count it all?

He starts staring at every little detail outside of the window, and makes himself a plan. He'll count every time he sees a heart, or if he sees something red, or if he sees a happy family or couple or friendship. It's his scale. It's a good drive around the city. He might as well. So he starts counting love.

A red store sign- One.

A heart shaped clutch- One.

A red laptop case- One.

Red jeans- One.

A couple kissing- One.

A heart on a shirt- One.

A heart shaped lollipop- One.

A woman jumping into the arms of a man- One.

Two girls linking arms- One.

A man giving a red gift- One.

A kiss on a cheek- One.

A red balloon- One.

Hearts on a headband- One.

A red banner hanging on one of the skyscrapers- One.

A big group hug- One.

And there are about over a hundred more to count, he estimates. And then he looks down at himself. His shirt is red.

He grins of love.

His red shirt- One.

He tells his mom of his plan and accomplishments, and she ruffles his hair and smiles real big. And they eat Hershey's and Funyuns while circling deep within Sacramento, while his mom sings and he counts red, hearts, and companionship.

It's a pretty good birthday so far.


	7. The Shooting Stars

They spend almost the whole day in Sacramento, eating lunch at a small Chinese restaurant and going on a bright boat ride to tour the city. It was a whole day with just him and his mom and all of the people.

But even with the sun still high, they leave a bit early so they can make it home by six. Mom says that something's back at home waiting for him.

And he remembers that by the time they pull up on their front driveway, and when they see an extra car parked where theirs should be. There's a tall, buff man leaning against the car, and when his mom parks her car, he leaps out and shouts.

"Uncle Jason!"

The man grins and immediately takes him up in his arms, and Troy wraps his smaller arms around his uncle. He can hear his mom walking up behind them, and nudges out of his grasp so his mom can hug her brother.

As they do, he turns and eyes Uncle Jason's car. And it's nothing like the Lamborghini he saw on the freeway. It's a vintage, a shiny red Comet. He's smiling because it's red, and Uncle Jason favors red like he does.

And he openly asks, "You own a comet, Uncle Jason?"

"I do now." he replies. "I have two: One that was passed down from my uncle, and one that I bought myself." He grins and ruffles his hair as Troy looks at the car and his uncle with stars in his eyes.

"Sweet." Troy muses.

"Alright, you two. Why not come in, Jason? Come on, Troy."

And Troy follows his mom and uncle into the house with perky feelings and a Sacramento muse.

~X~

About an hour and a half later, he, his mom, and Uncle Jason are all around the small dinner table. Troy always liked the fact that they would be eating dinner when the sun's still high, and he liked that this birthday had been a happier one. His mom had taken him downtown and his Uncle Jason had come around.

Uncle Jason had been one of the only family members. He had been an only child, and his dad was somewhere away from them, fortunately. And then he had one grandparent, who was sickening in a retirement home somewhere far away. And then he had Uncle Jason's family: Aunt Kimberly and his cousin Rachel, who was much cooler than him but loved him nevertheless. But it was just a small family, really…a cozy, small, loving family.

People sometimes think he's quiet when they're just talking away, but he really just likes hearing people talk. Uncle Jason was telling them about his life and his success. And Troy loves hearing him. Everything he has to say is a story, and Troy finds it interesting. He gets to see Uncle Jason once in a while, because Jason is traveling around the country a lot. And that's all because Uncle Jason is famous.

He's Jason Lee Scott, former Mixed Martial Artist and currently the leader and founder of the Kenshin Academy.

His uncle was the founder of one of the most successful karate academies around the world, a long chain of self-defense built all around the globe. Every year, Uncle Jason traveled to give a class or two to over half the academies. It just so happens that there was a Kenshin Academy right in Sacramento. Troy just thought it was easier to believe that they were everywhere.

It was a brilliant dojo, Troy knew. It was led by true professionals. It had been designed not just to teach persons of self-defense, but also to give them strength and confidence. It was like therapy. And that was the type of person Uncle Jason was. He was caring, loyal, friendly, and had one of the biggest hearts Troy had ever seen.

After dinner, while mom talks with the realtor over some last minute details, Uncle Jason takes him outside. They loiter around the Comet for a while, and don't do all the Uncle-Nephew stuff. It makes his Uncle Jason even cooler.

And then he asks, "Why did you quit Mixed Martial Arts, Uncle Jason?"

Jason leans against his car and shrugs his shoulders. "I loved martial arts since I was a kid. I did it often, really often. Then I thought, 'I'd be really good at that.' Maybe I could've made money off of that, what I loved. But then, after the years past, you realize that there's a whole other side to that. My fighting was to, uh…help people. And that was what I loved most. I wanted to help people. I'd rather do that than pro-martial arts."

And it was as simple as that, Troy thought. He takes what Uncle Jason said to heart as advice.

Jason gives him an assuring smile and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good kid, you know that. Change comes to everyone. You can do whatever you want." he tells him.

"Thanks, Uncle Jason." Troy smiles back.

Then his uncle abruptly leans off the car, and Troy mirrors his actions. He watches as Jason ruffles through his pockets, and when he feels a familiar jingle, he looks right at Troy and raises an eyebrow.

"You _are_ fifteen today, aren't you?" Jason asks.

Troy scoffs playfully. "You forgot your own nephew's age, on his _birthday_, didn't you?"

"Good kid…" Jason mutters. Then he looks back at him. "Your mom says you're going to get your learner's permit soon."

"Once we move over to Panorama." Troy nods.

"Right. So you need a car…AKA you need a birthday present."

Troy hears it come out bluntly, like a big casual comment. But he hears it clearly. He stares ahead, right towards Uncle Jason's Comet, and repeats it in his head. When he's done, he stares right back at his uncle.

"You're mom says it was okay, so…"

Jason walks over to the garage doors behind his Comet, and Troy watches as he pushes the garage button. And the giant door opens, and then Troy sees that there are now two cars in their garage. There's his mom's, and then there's a dream.

"I got two for a reason." Jason says. He points to the one parked outside. "That one's mine." he says. He gestures for Troy to follow him as he walks inside. Troy eyes the car, and realizes that it's the car outside: another cherry red Comet.

Jason puts one hand on it. "This one…this one is yours."

And Troy's eyes go wide, because he doesn't expect presents, ever, and this one just happens to be big. He's picturing what age sixteen is going to be like. He'll be able to drive this Comet with freedom, and it's all his.

"You got me a car?" he blurts out.

"Yeah, I got you a car." Jason laughs. "All the more special, right. And it's red, because you're like me!" he says, and Troy laughs at the common love for the color red. Uncle Jason pats his back like Troy's a man. "Just don't screw anything up, Troy. You're a good person, and that shouldn't change of you, right?"

"Right."

And Troy says it with full honesty, because he'd try his hardest never to change.

Troy thinks he's pretty good.


	8. A House, Not a Home

Hey all! Sorry for the long hiatus AGAIN. I've been crafting some separate stuff. But here is a new chapter, and just to let you know, be on the lookout for an upcoming story of mine :).

* * *

After a ride of about five hours from Oakwood, with the windows down, more yelling over the wind, and a moving truck with them, he thinks they could've possibly found home.

They got a small, cozy, and affordable in Panorama, bigger than their home in Oakwood, but a little more cramped than a single family home. But they have three bedrooms, one and a half baths, and a nice comforting space for two people.

He was glad that it hadn't cost too much to rent. He didn't want his mom to spend any more money than he should, especially if he was half the reason. At least, he thought he was half the reason. Both sides knew that he would be getting a fresh start. He didn't want to bring his past back to life. What would all think of him? Who would he be now?

He thought he was good as he was. He didn't think he needed to change. But lately, he thinks it may just be improving himself instead…

But change couldn't be that hard. He's changed so many things so many times. It should be easy.

On the other side of him lies the truth. It's not always that easy.

So he sits on a box he put out on the balcony to make space. He's creaking the cardboard, but he doesn't mind. All he wants to think about for even two seconds is how much he wants things to change. He finally wants to go to a good school, make some friends, and see his mom smile a happy smile, not one of her usual assuring grins to try and make him feel better. He wants differences. He wants a shift in normal _to_ normal.

His neighborhood is a quiet one, pretty calm with all the houses looking the same as each other. It's an average place with the level headed neighbors, and for a split second it's poking his brain. It's like something was wrong with it. But he had been here for about two hours already, and there are two little claws nagging him in the back of his head. One is saying that he gets too paranoid and is just nervous of starting over, which is potentially true.

The other one, though, lets him ponder over the thought of a big bright world. It's either right next to him, or across the world. It's pushing him to think that this may not be his place. That somewhere across that orange and pink horizon that he's staring into, he'll find his home.

It feels alright here. It feels average and normal and simple. But it didn't feel permanent. It didn't feel like it could earn its title as the right home. But it was okay. He was one to adapt. He'd find it okay here. He'd find a place to settle. And maybe when Uncle Jason would come to visit, and he would learn how to drive his new Comet to and from this house, and after he set up training mats in their basement, it would feel like his home.

For now, it was okay.

It would be okay.


	9. Who They Are

The city is a nice quiet place for him and his mom. It's modern and friendly and a blend of enough diversity and kindness. He hasn't been well about making friends. He doesn't mind. He thinks he'll wait until school starts. But he likes the city so far. It's not so crowded, but there are always people. It's a smaller city than he expects, so a lot of the places, like parks and stores, just remain closely bound together.

Thankfully, his mom is letting him go into this unknown alone. Using her medical degree, she had earned a rightful place in the Panorama Central Hospital. It makes fairly a good amount of money to keep a guaranteed assurance for their rental payment, so they're both satisfied. So while his mother works shifts during the summer, he chooses not to remain alone stuck inside the house alone. A lot of the days follow the routine: mom leaves, unpack a little, call mom to let her know, go outside to explore the city.

So he walks around lazily looking for nothing in particular. Once in a while, he uses an allowance to get an ice cream or something, but he's just exploring, merely going around in circles to get known of this world.

There's one day where he sees something new. He's walking right into the heart of town when he sees an innocent female face walking towards his direction, looking down and then around. She has bright golden girls shielding her face and she's hugging her yellow cardigan around her petite framed body. She's slung a white backpack around her back, which seems to catch Troy's eye pretty quickly. But even from a distance, he can see that she's walking quite quickly, seemingly trying to find her way.

When the two of them are closer together, somewhat under ten yards, it seems like out of nowhere there is a group of older, bigger kids that come near her. One unexpectedly brings their leg out, and the small blonde girl immediately falls, with a small item flying out of her hands. Troy wants to think that it was an accident, before he sees those people laughing and staring at her for a second before turning around in a choir of snickers.

It's all too familiar. That feeling, that same pain that drew into his heart for so many years had come back in an aching sympathy for the stranger that had been torn down. He remembers how it used to be for him, been blown like that every day, being knocked down as if it was oh-so casual. It hurt.

Troy blinks before rushing over there himself. He's quick enough to arrive in a closer vicinity of both the girl and the bullies, and he doesn't back out to call to them.

"You can't just do that! That's rude!"

They hear him once, and turn around and stare directly to him. They look almost…disgusted, and insulted that he would actually be telling them off.

"Why do we take orders from a tiny little stranger like you…or her? Leave us alone, moron." one of them speaks up. Troy has the urge to rant more, but they swiftly turn around and walk away for both of them.

He kneels down to the small girl who is staring at the bullies walking away, then shaking her head.

"Let me help you." he says softly. He supports her as she sits up properly. She finally makes eye contact with him, and Troy sees it in her small, timid hazel eyes. The fear, the pain, the casualty. He realizes just by how her eyes speak that this girl could simply be just like him, feeling that all this is normal.

"You didn't need to do that." she says to him. She brushes herself off a bit and then adds, "I was okay."

Troy shrugged his shoulders. "It wasn't okay to me. That was for no reason, and it sickens me to see that stuff happen to anyone." he tells her. "Do you know them?"

She shakes her head. "I actually just arrived in town. Literally."

"Cool. I came here a few weeks ago, so welcome."

She lets out a small giggle, and proceeds to brush herself off. Troy realizes that she's holding a small thin wooden cylinder tightly in her hands, and in the moment where she stuffs it in her bag, he sees that it's a small flute. He is soon finding himself turning with scouring eyes that land in the area behind him. He turns and reaches out to what she had dropped, and then held out his hand for her to take it.

"I think this is yours." he says. He's holding a small plastic triangle item, shining bright yellow and black with a Japanese Kanji symbol encrusted on it. He watches as her eyes widen slightly and she abruptly takes it from his hands, mumbling a slight thank you before it's hanging around her neck.

Troy takes this time to stand up and brush himself off a bit as well. He soon holds his hand out to the lady below him, and she gently takes it as he helps her up.

"Well, thank you…" she said, then faded into a pause staring at him, and he realizes that she's looking for him.

"Troy. I'm Troy."

She smiles and nods to him. "Troy. Nice to meet you." she says.

"Yeah, you too." he replied with a polite smile as well. He stops himself for a moment, but then continues and adds, "Hey, do you need helping finding your way? You seemed kind of lost when I saw you."

She seems surprised, most likely because he had noticed her before. He thought that she was going to reply a simple no, but he was relived at her true answer.

"Actually, yes. That'd be great. Thank you." she said.

Troy nods, and tells her "Of course. Where are you headed?"

"The town center."

"Oh, that's back there. I just passed. I'll lead you."

"Thank you, Troy."

And she's at his side, and he's turned the other way again. He finds himself walking side by side with this girl as they begin finding her way in a comfortable friendly silence.

~X~

"You've been bullied too?"

Troy and the girl have found themselves talking to complete strangers about their past and present. Troy's predictions had been right. She had shared a similar story. This stranger had been bullied just like him. They had shared painful memories too. Coincidentally, they both would come home crying as well.

It was one of the only times where Troy had felt comforted by another person in his presence, beside his family. She hadn't been manipulating, rude, or disrespectful. She was innocent, kind-hearted, and pure. It let him feel warm inside too. They would share genuine smiles, friendly laughs, and kind gestures. In that time, he had been thankful for her coming into his view.

"Pretty much as long as I can remember." he replies to her. "No one really liked me as a kid. I don't they think they like me now."

"Same here. I really couldn't do anything right. That had been the perfect opportunities for bullies." she says.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Troy. It does." she sighs.

They're walking down a slight hill of a road when she slows down a little bit. Her eyes become fixed on the area in front of her. Troy sees that they've arrived to the center of town, so he follows her gaze. She's looking at two people next to a van, with an Asian woman in gray with a dash of pink and an African American man in a blue sports jacket with a blue swim cap and goggles hugging his head.

Her eyes perk up and she gives off a small grin. She looks to Troy, and he meets his gaze.

"That's my stop." she tells him.

Troy nods, a little disappointed that his time with her had to end so quickly. But he was with her for one reason, and now she had to go. So he nods, and asks "You know them?"

"I'm about to." she replies with a deep breath and another smile. She looks back to him with the same smile, her eyes warm and friendly. "Thank you," she says to him. "For everything you did for me, calling out the bullies, helping me up, leading me here. It really means a lot."

Troy grins, and nods. "No problem. And thank _you_. You defiantly put some warmth into my heart for today." he tells her.

Her smile just about grows bigger. "Really?"

"Really." he answers confidently. He had just poured himself out to a complete stranger, and it had felt good today.

He thinks she can feel it too, because unexpectedly, she reaches up and wraps her small arms around him. But Troy doesn't mind. He doesn't mind at all, and hugs her back softly. When they release, Troy knows that she has to go now, and he has to fall back a little lonelier.

"Thank you, again. Goodbye Troy." she says gently. And she begins to walk away from him, down the hill, when Troy has to stop her again.

"Do you think I can see you again?" he calls down to her.

She stops and turns to him. She gives a comforting smile, and says with full honesty, "I'm sure that you'll see me around here. I don't think I'll be going anywhere for a while." Then she continues her path down to the two people when Troy pauses her once more.

"Wait, what's your name?" he calls quickly. She turns again, farther away from him now.

"I'm Emily."

Then, she's quickly bouncing down the road, and she's parted away from her.

"Emily…" he mumbles off his tongue. He smiles, and says to himself:

_My first friend's name is Emily_.

He can't help but watch her as she talks to both of the people down there, when they are soon joined by another person. He looks more Emily's age, and he's sporting the color green.

He looks at them for a second before suddenly clutching his head.

~X~

_A mutant creature stands at the heart of town, thrashing attacks and hits to all the common civilians roaming the city, but now trying to evade the area._

_"That's right. Come on down!" he taunts at a losing human toppling down the stairs._

_"That's enough!" a voice booms above him._

_As the evasion by humans continues, there are five civilians that come up into view. With matching outfits with a different colored trim for all, they stand bravely at the top of the stairs. They're looking dead in the eyes of their opponent._

_"Well it's about time. Aww, come on. Who are you punks?" he boasts at them._

_"We're the Samurai Rangers." the voice in the middle calls. A device is flipped out in his hand, and he leads his group of five in a heroic chant._

_"Samuraizer!" he yells. And the whole pack is mimicking the same motion._

_"Go Go Samurai!"_

_In the blink of an eye, each of them are drawing colored symbol, which soon fall onto their own bodies and morph into a head-to-toe body suit. Each has a helmet with their symbol on it and their own sword, they become prepared for battle._

_"Rangers together, Samurai forever!_

~X~

Troy is taking deep and rough breaths, jolting himself to process what had just played itself in his mind. He releases his head, and gently stands up straight. He is instantly looking straight at the crowd down with Emily.

He believes he just had a vision.

And he swore that in that vision, that he heard Emily too.

He gulps, but slowly turns around and away from Emily and her new friends. His pace quickly speeds up, and his view of the four in the town center is fading as he goes farther up the inclined road. He turns to see them one more time, and sucks in a breath as he continues walking into the city.

But not before he gets a view of the man in red riding up to them on a white horse.


End file.
